


Then I See You Again

by Historical_Fangirl



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: 1940s, Artistic Liberties, Canon Compliant, Caretaking, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Historical, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Language, Nursing, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Slow Burn, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25271305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Historical_Fangirl/pseuds/Historical_Fangirl
Summary: Clare Davis wasn't entirely sure why she had joined the Army Nurse Corps, but (as she would soon discover) it ended up being one of the best and most important experiences of her life. And not just because she was serving her country.
Relationships: Eugene Roe/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1- Normandy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to all! This is my first work for this fandom, and I am very excited to be posting it here. This is by far the longest story I've ever written, so please bear with me if the number of chapters fluctuates a bit as I post them.
> 
> After a couple of months of careful consideration (and a considerable amount of historical research), I have decided to jump on the bandwagon that seems to be going around this fandom and write a female OC into Band of Brothers. Please note that I mean no disrespect to the actual veterans or their family members in writing this, my story is based purely on the series. This idea just took hold of my brain and would not let it go no matter what I tried.

_ Normandy _

_ D-Day +4 _

The landing craft pitched and rolled as waves crashed against it, some water spilling over the metal sides onto Clare’s feet. She clutched her kit bag tightly and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as her stomach flipped yet again. A glance at her fellow nurses confirmed that she wasn’t the only one feeling queasy- almost everyone looked distinctly pale and had their jaws clenched against the urge to vomit.

Clare closed her eyes and tilted her head back, focusing on her breathing and the smell of salt in the air to distract herself from the reality of her situation. As the landing craft neared the beach she half expected to hear explosions and gunfire, but everything remained eerily silent save for the sound of the water lapping against the craft’s metal sides and the soft groans of her sickest companions.

_ If Jack could see me now,  _ Clare thought, a ghost of a smile flitting across her lips.  _ He’d probably laugh. _

The craft jolted to a stop and Clare’s eyes snapped open. With a loud clang, the door opened, and everyone sprung into action. Clare hoisted her bag up and climbed out with the rest of the nurses, her feet landing on the sand with a soft thud. Most people remained silent, and what little talking there was was almost inaudible to anyone not standing directly next to the person speaking.

The beach was still littered with debris and more than a few bloodstains, but no bodies appeared immediately visible and there was no sign of enemy troops, although several American boys were there (presumably to keep an eye on them). As the group made their way across the beach and climbed up ramps that had been dug in the sand, heading to where trucks were supposedly waiting to take them to their assigned destination, the air felt thick and heavy.

“Feels like we’re walking on graves,” Clare murmured to no one in particular. One of her close friends, Second Lieutenant Kathleen Bukowski, caught her eyes and flashed her a grim smile.

“Alright, ladies!” Their matron, First Lieutenant Agatha Schultz, broke the silence as they reached the main road where troop trucks indeed awaited to take them on to their final destination. “Climb aboard. Let’s get a move on.”

Clare hurried over to the nearest truck and tossed her bag up onto it, hoisting herself up next. She reached out a hand to Kathleen and helped her up, then both of them took a seat on the narrow benches which lined the truck bed.

“I’m glad they finally issued us real uniforms, otherwise all this would be much more difficult,” Kathleen commented, gesturing to her brand new ODs.

“Amen to that,” Clare replied as the trucks rumbled to life and pulled away, leaving the beach behind. “I’m not that kind of girl.” She paused, then lowered her voice to a suggestive whisper. “And even if I was, there isn’t anyone here to enjoy it.”

Kathleen dropped her voice even lower than Clare’s and gave her a wry smile. “Oh, I think I’d have enjoyed it just fine.”

Clare regarded her friend with a withering look for a moment before she cracked a smile and both of them doubled over giggling.

~

Clare and her fellow nurses had been assigned to assist the 326th Airborne Medical Company, and as the trucks drew closer to where the Company had set up their Aid Station Clare felt butterflies rise in her stomach once again, although this time they weren’t from seasickness. Despite the training she had gone through back home, both in college and when she enlisted, she still felt woefully unprepared for what awaited her and she knew many of the others felt the same. Treating patients in a sterile hospital with all of the necessary equipment available at any hour of the day or night was not at all the same as being a combat nurse, and everyone knew it.

_ I told you this was a stupid idea,  _ Jack’s voice crowed in Clare’s head.  _ What, the hospital in DC wasn’t good enough for you? You just  _ had  _ to go and play the hero? Idiot. _

Clare gritted her teeth against the imaginary taunts and set her jaw determinedly. Whether or not this had been a stupid idea was beside the point now. She was here and she had a job to do. Everything else could go to hell for the time being as far as she was concerned.

“Look.” Kathleen nudged Clare and pointed to what appeared to be a large stone castle in the distance. Tents with gigantic red crosses on them were set up outside of it, and she could just see the outlines of people running back and forth between the building and the tents as they rumbled towards it. Clare swallowed hard.

~

The Aid Station was organized chaos. Clare, Kathleen, and the other nurses found themselves surrounded by a mess of soldiers, doctors, and medics. The shouts and screams of the more grievously wounded followed them as they and their matron went inside the castle.

“You’ll each be properly assigned later. For now, put your things next to the door,” one of the more senior doctors instructed them distractedly as he scribbled something on the piece of paper he held in his hands. “Then get your equipment organized and help where you can. As you can see everything’s a bit of a mess at the moment, but there’s plenty of work for you to do.”

With those brief instructions seemingly all of the wisdom he had time to impart the doctor hurried away, leaving Clare and the others a bit dumbfounded. Even Lieutenant Schultz seemed at a bit of a loss for words.

“Well, come on then.” Clare finally said. “You heard him.” She pulled her medical supplies from her bag before dumping it where they had been instructed to, careful to keep it out of the way so no one would trip over it. “Let’s get to work.”


	2. Chapter 2- Château Colombières

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those who left kudos on the previous chapter. As I said, this chapter is where things really pick up and familiar faces begin to appear, so I hope everyone enjoys this.

Eugene gritted his teeth as he wrapped a bandage around a wounded soldier’s bleeding thigh. Or, more accurately,  _ tried _ to.

“You’ve gotta stop moving, Private,” he said to the man, who appeared to not hear him as he writhed in pain. Eugene looked back down at his work, cursing when the bandage slipped again and he got more blood on his hands.

“Need any help?” a voice asked from behind him.

Eugene didn’t bother to look at whoever it was as he answered. “He needs morphine.”

“Here,” a young woman (a nurse judging by the red cross on her armband) stepped into his peripheral vision. She pulled a syrette out and stuck it in the soldier’s opposite leg, all the while murmuring words of comfort to the wounded man. “It’s alright, Private, that’s it. Take nice deep breaths, okay? You’ll be just fine in a minute.”

Eugene relaxed slightly as the man started to drift off, his limbs going slack enough to allow the bandage to be properly tied. The nurse, meanwhile, stuck the used syrette onto his jacket.

“Thanks,” Eugene said as he straightened up.

“Of course.”

Eugene quickly took in the sight of this newcomer. She was just a little shorter than him, had hair almost the same color, and looked to be about the same age as him, but that was where the physical similarities between them ended. Her face was rounder than his, her skin looked tawny even in the aid station’s poor lighting, and her eyes were a dark chestnut brown in contrast with his blue ones.

“I’m Second Lieutenant Clare Davis.”

Eugene blinked. “Huh? Oh, uh, Corporal Eugene Roe.” He considered saluting her (as he ought to since she was an officer) but she didn’t seem to be expecting one and it felt awkward to do it now. Besides, he wasn’t exactly sure what the proper protocol was with nurses. He opted for a handshake instead, which she returned firmly.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what’s going on around here, would you?” Clare asked, and Eugene noticed that she spoke with a slight Southern accent. “Nobody’s told me anything.”

He shrugged. “They’re bringing guys in from the front lines. I’m just helping where I can.”

“Nothing seems to be organized,” Clare commented.

“We got hit yesterday,” Eugene explained. “Lost a lot of our equipment. And more than a few men.”

“I see.”

“Hey, I need some help over here!” The shout came from across the room, interrupting their conversation, and both Eugene and Clare turned towards it immediately.

“I’ll go,” she said, already moving across the room quickly. “Thank you for your help, Corporal.”

Eugene nodded politely. “Anytime, Lieutenant.”

~

Clare let out a heavy sigh as she plopped down on the floor of the Aid Station, reaching up to make sure her hair was still pinned up in a neat chignon. She was more tired than she ever had been in her entire life, and the day still wasn’t done. She could only take a few minutes to rest while there was a brief lull in the action before the door would inevitably bang open and more wounded men would be brought through, screaming and crying and begging for help.

“Clare.”

Clare looked up when her name was called to see Kathleen approaching. She scooted over along the wall to make room for her friend, trying to smile. “Hey.”

Kathleen grunted softly as she sat down. “Any idea when we can go to bed?”

Clare shook her head. “No. I don’t even know if we have beds yet.”

“Figures.”

The pair were silent for a few more minutes, content to just take a moment for themselves even as activity swirled around them.

“We’ve been here for less than 24 hours,” Kathleen said out of the blue. She chuckled softly, seeming to find that fact funny.

“Feels like we’ve been here for weeks already,” Clare replied.

“What do you think it’ll feel like when we’ve actually been here for weeks?” Kathleen asked.

“Like we’ve been here for months.”

“And when we’ve been here for months?”

“Like we’ve been here for years.”

Clare glanced over at Kathleen and met her eyes, then the two of them began to laugh softly. Between the emotional and physical demands of the day both of them were absolutely exhausted, and it was starting to give Clare a floaty feeling a little bit like she’d had too much to drink.

“What’s so funny, lieutenants?”

Clare and Kathleen both looked up to see Lieutenant Schultz standing over them, and their smiles quickly faded. They sat up a little straighter.

“Nothing. We were just, well… you know. Talking,” Kathleen said.

“I can see that.” Schultz looked the two of them over, then smiled softly. “You two look beat. Come on, I’ll show you where we’ll be sleeping. Get your things.”

Clare and Kathleen put up no argument, and they quickly grabbed their bags and followed Schultz outside. She led them to a small tent that had been set up to the side of the Aid Station, the bright red and white cross on it almost invisible in the dark. Inside a few rows of cots were set up neatly. Clare thought she’d never seen something so wonderful in her entire life.

“Most of these are free. Stake your claim,” Schultz said. “Get a good night’s sleep. You’ll need it in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Kathleen called after her as she left.

Clare, meanwhile, had eyes only for the nearest cot. She dumped her bag next to it, pulled her boots off, and lay down without even bothering to take off her ODs. The bed would have been far from comfortable in normal circumstances, but as Clare hadn’t slept since the previous night in England she wasn’t about to complain.

Kathleen chuckled, and Clare opened her eyes to glare at her weakly. “Go to hell.”

“Go to hell yourself,” Kathleen responded good-naturedly as she took off her own boots.

“Mmm,” Clare hummed as her eyes slipped shut again. “Not yet.”

Kathleen let out a full laugh at that, but Clare didn’t hear her. She was already fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 326th Airborne Medical Company set up an Aid/Clearing Station at the Château Colombières almost as soon as they arrived in France on the 6th of June, 1944. The Aid Station was directly hit by bombs on the night of June 9th, killing 8 enlisted men and wounding 14 others (both officers and enlisted men) as well as destroying much of the medical equipment.
> 
> All women in the ANC were given the starting rank of Second Lieutenant. This was primarily to keep them separate from the enlisted men and discourage fraternization between them. Most of the nurses stayed at that rank, although some rose to become First Lieutenants, and a very select few became Captains (the highest-ranking woman in the ANC was the Superintendent of the program, and she held the rank of Colonel).
> 
> Feel free to leave feedback on this story! Let me know what you think of it so far, and submit your guesses as to what might happen next.


	3. Chapter 3- Château Colombières

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back after a little bit of a break with a new chapter! I'm sorry for any inconsistencies with the show that may occur in these next few chapters, although I've watched the whole Band of Brothers miniseries twice I still find the second and third (especially the third) episodes to be a tad bit confusing in terms of timeline and location. If anything is incorrect, I'll just call it artistic liberty haha.

_ D-Day +6 _

After being in France for two days, Clare had mostly given up on forming some kind of routine. At the hospital she had worked at in DC order and routine were defining features, but she and the other nurses had quickly realized that predictability went out the window in combat. The Nazis didn’t care what time of day or night it was- they fought just as fiercely regardless. Thus, wounded came in at all hours of the day and night, and Clare and the other nurses looked after them as best they could before they were evacuated to bigger hospitals. Time for sleeping, eating, and other such activities were limited, and the nurses took what they could get when they could get it in both cases.

Such was the case that afternoon. Clare was outside using a water pump and a small bar of soap to scrub her hands free of blood and dirt when she heard the sound of vehicles approaching. More casualties from the latest battle, no doubt.

“Hey, nurse!”

Clare quickly finished washing her hands and sprinted over to where an ambulance had pulled up, a badly wounded man emerging from inside it on a stretcher. She took a cursory look at his injuries. His leg was badly injured, blood soaking through the white bandage that had been hastily put on it. His face was also marred with so much blood that it was hard to tell how much was splatter and how much was coming from an injury, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. The other fluttered open and closed as he fought against unconsciousness.

Clare turned to the medic who had also hopped out of the ambulance. “Corporal Roe!” She hadn’t seen him since their brief encounter on her first day. “What happened?”

“The house he was clearin’ got blown up. Grenade, I think, but I dunno for sure. I didn’t see it.” Eugene’s voice stayed calm and smooth despite the chaos around him, and Clare felt an unexplained surge of admiration as she observed his demeanor. A groan from the other man interrupted her thoughts, however, and she snapped back into medical mode.

“Alright. Take him to the closest empty bed,” Clare ordered the stretcher-bearers. She looked back at Eugene. “Do you have a minute, Corporal?”

He nodded. “Of course.”   
  


“I need clean water, bandages, and rubbing alcohol.” Clare started to go into the building, but she stopped and called back to Eugene over her shoulder after she remembered one more thing. “Has he had morphine?”

“Yeah, one syrette,” he called back.

“Got it.”

~

Eugene found Lieutenant Davis’ requested supplies without too much trouble. He had been in the Aid Station quite a lot over the past week in France and had come to know where everything was kept and who had the keys to the supply cabinets.

When Eugene found Clare she was carefully cutting through the bandage on Tipper’s leg to get a better look at his wound, all the while trying to soothe him.

“It’s okay, Private. You’re in good hands now, I promise. You’re doing just fine.”

“Here, nurse,” Eugene said, setting the things she had requested next to her. Then he put his hand on Tipper’s shoulder and smiled softly at him. “It’s okay now, Tip. We’re gonna get you fixed up.”

The combination of a familiar face and Eugene’s soothing cadence calmed Tipper down, and his eye fluttered closed as he finally allowed himself to drift off under the influence of the morphine.

“Thanks,” Clare said, although Eugene didn’t know if she was thanking him for the supplies or soothing Tipper. He nodded awkwardly in acknowledgment.

Clare’s face turned blank and expressionless as she assessed Tipper’s wounds. Eugene remained silent, trying not to let the concern he felt for a member of his company show. He couldn’t help anyone if he fell apart.

“Hmm.” Clare let out a quiet hum as she dipped a bandage in water and used it to clean some of the dried blood from Tipper’s leg, trying to gauge the severity of the injury. “This will need stitches.”

“Should he see a doctor?” The words were out of Eugene’s mouth before he realized what they implied, and he inwardly cursed.

“I can do it just fine,” Clare said mildly, although there was an edge to her words that hadn’t been there before. She glanced up at Eugene. “You don’t have to stay if you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

Sensing that she would prefer not to have him hovering unless he was actively helping Eugene took her cue and made to leave, but Clare suddenly called out to him. “Corporal, wait.”

Eugene turned back to her questioningly.

“He’ll see a doctor before he gets evacuated.” Clare’s tone was mostly authoritative, and to anyone else, it might have sounded like a simple statement of fact, but the look in her eyes and the slight weight that her words carried told Eugene she was trying to reassure him. He nodded his thanks.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that everyone is enjoying this story so far! If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to leave them in a comment. I greatly appreciate any and all feedback.


	4. Chapter 4- Château Colombières

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the fourth chapter! Another familiar face is heavily featured in this installment, so I hope everyone enjoys this.

In the hours following her and Eugene’s conversation, Clare found herself thinking about him often. She wasn’t sure why, but something about him had caught her attention. Perhaps it was his demeanor, the way he observed and understood almost everything but said almost nothing unless he was spoken to. Perhaps it was the way he looked at the men he brought in like he would give his life in a heartbeat if it meant they would be alright. Perhaps it was his startlingly vibrant eyes and dark hair. Perhaps it was a combination of all of those things.

Regardless, it was beginning to drive Clare to distraction. She let out a heavy sigh of frustration as she narrowly missed the eye of the needle she was trying to thread for the second time in a row. Kathleen, who was working next to her, eyed her.

“Need some help?”

Clare shook her head. “No. I got it.” Licking her lips, she brought the needle closer to her face and managed to pass the nylon thread through its eye successfully. She smiled at Kathleen. “Third time’s the charm.”

Kathleen smiled back, but there was still uncertainty in her gaze as she observed Clare begin work on stitching up an unconscious man’s leg.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked.

Clare didn’t look up as she answered, “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You can thread a needle in your sleep,” Kathleen said. “We all can.”

“Everyone has off days.”

“Sure, but you were fine this morning. Fine up until that medic came in.” Kathleen’s voice took on a teasing lilt. “What was his name again? Roe?”

“Kathleen.” Clare’s voice was all business as she clipped the thread and straightened up to look her friend in the eye. “Stop.”

“Oh come on, I was only-”

“I know exactly what you were doing, and I’m telling you to stop,” Clare cut in. “We’re officers for a reason. We’re supposed to be above that kind of crap.”

“Everyone knows the only reason they bothered to make us officers is so that the higher-ups can have us all to themselves,” Kathleen bit back, her tone suddenly hard.

Clare was taken aback for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered and narrowed her eyes. “Whatever the reason, we were given responsibility. That means following the rules, and the rules are that we do our jobs and nothing else.”

The pair stared at each other for a minute, as if waiting to see their argument would escalate further until Kathleen nodded and the fire in her eyes evaporated. She looked a little sheepish. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Clare replied. “We’ve both had a long day.”

Kathleen nodded. “That’s for sure.”

Setting down her needle and thread, Clare tried to smile even as an emotion she couldn’t quite name (regret, perhaps?) continued to course through her. “Would you mind finishing up here? I’m just going to get a drink.”

“A drink, huh?” Kathleen questioned, a hint of the dry humor she readily employed evident in her voice.

“Of  _ water, _ you idiot.” Clare shook her head fondly. “I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

“What a coincidence! I hate you too.”

~

Clare took a deep breath of the (relatively) fresh air and took a swig from her canteen, trying to calm down.

_ Have I told you lately that you’re an idiot? Because you are. A reckless fool. What happened to keeping your head down, huh? Keeping  _ safe _? What will Mama say when- _

“Shut up,” Clare hissed between clenched teeth. She took another deep breath. Mercifully, Jack’s voice stayed quiet.

“Lieutenant Davis!”

Clare stiffened when she heard her name called, then frowned as she caught sight of Eugene supporting a young man as he climbed unsteadily out of a jeep. She jogged over to where they stood, by the entrance to the Aid Station.

“What do you need?” she asked. The soldier with Eugene seemed healthy enough, at least from the outside. His face had a few superficial cuts on it and the blonde hair that was visible from underneath his helmet was matted with dirt, but otherwise, he looked completely normal. That is, completely normal aside from the way his bright blue eyes darted around fearfully.

“Can you help him inside?” Eugene asked. He lowered his voice so that only Clare could hear him. “He can’t see.”

“What?” Clare immediately reached up and tugged the other man’s helmet off, scanning his head for any visible wounds or blood. When she didn’t see any, she frowned. “Did you hit your head, Private?” Head wounds and concussions were the usual cause of blindness in combat situations, but if he had hit his head that hard he would probably be unconscious, or at the very least unable to walk.

The young soldier shook his head dazedly. “No, I- I don’t think so,” he managed to get out. “Everything just kinda… went dark.”

Clare’s first thought was that he might be lying, given the lack of evidence that pointed to what might have caused his apparent blindness, but her second thought was that it would be extremely difficult (if not nigh-on impossible) to fake the level of disorientation that he appeared to be experiencing and so he must be telling the truth.

“Okay,” she said, laying a comforting hand on his arm and nodding at Eugene, who sent her a look of gratitude as he hurried off to help the other wounded men. “Well, we’re going to get you checked out as soon as possible, Private, to figure out what’s going on.” She slowly began to walk in the direction of the door to the inside, carefully avoiding holes or rocks as she led the wounded man.

The soldier, for his part, didn’t say anything. He still looked stricken with terror, and Clare felt her heart go out to him.

“What’s your name, soldier?” she asked as they stepped inside.

“Blithe. Albert Blithe,” was the soft reply, and Clare gave him a little smile even though she knew he couldn’t see it.

“Nice to meet you, Private Blithe. I’m Nurse Davis. Here, sit down, and I’ll take a look at you.” She helped him sit down with his back against the wall, as all of the available cots were needed for the more grievously wounded and she still had yet to locate any serious physical injuries on him.

Blithe said nothing, just nodded, his expression blank, and his eyes still unfocused.

Clare studied his expression for a moment longer, as if it might tell her something more, then sighed softly and knelt in front of him to begin her examination.

“You can’t see anything, you said? No light, no objects or people that are close by?”

“No… it’s- it’s like there’s a curtain in front of my eyes. I can’t see anythin’.” Blithe’s breathing sped up as he described it, and Clare placed her hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“It’s okay, Private. You’re safe right now,” she soothed. “I promise.”

Blithe nodded and scrubbed his sleeve at his eyes, which had begun to well up with tears. “Sorry.”   
  


“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Clare ran her hand up and down his arm. “Do you remember when this happened? What you were doing?”   
  


“Uh…” Blithe’s forehead creased. “It was a couple hours ago, I think… I was shelterin’ up against a building. Then... I got up. I turned the corner, and…” he trailed off and shrugged. “It just crashed down on me. And then I couldn’t see.”

“Okay.” In the absence of paper, Clare made a mental note of what he had said. “I’m going to check for a concussion now, okay?”

Following another mute nod from Blithe, Clare pulled out a small flashlight. She held it up to his eyes and found herself growing even more confused than she already was when not only did his pupils look normal but they reacted to the light as they should, constricting to become smaller. She clicked it off, sitting back on her heels as she considered her options.

“I’m going to go find a doctor to take a look at you,” she stated, pushing herself back up onto her feet as she spoke. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” Blithe said softly, sounding very young and very alone.

After one last look at Private Blithe, Clare turned and began looking for an unoccupied doctor (not an easy task in the overcrowded Aid Station). As she moved through the room she passed Eugene, who was seeing to the leg of a tall man with red hair. He met her gaze, a question visible in his eyes. Clare shrugged.

_ You still think this was a good idea? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to have the next chapter posted in a few days. In the meantime, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this one!


	5. Chapter 5- Château Colombières & Carentan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are officially 1/6th of the way through this story! I hope it hasn't been too awful so far.
> 
> There is a hint of romance in this chapter, so if you're excited for that then you're in luck. And if you couldn't care less about that aspect of the story then, well, I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway.

“Hysterical blindness,” the army doctor declared, making a note on his clipboard. “It can happen in combat, although I’ve personally never seen it before.”

“I never heard of that,” Eugene said. He glanced over to Clare, who for once looked almost as lost as he did.

“I learned about it a little in college, but I didn’t even think about it,” she admitted.

“Of course you didn’t,” the doctor said condescendingly. Eugene stiffened at his blatant disregard for Clare’s knowledge (although why he felt so indignant on her behalf when he still didn’t really know her he couldn’t say). Clare, for her part, had fury blazing in her eyes although she kept her mouth shut, and poor Blithe looked even more overwhelmed and confused than he had a few hours earlier.

“Should he be sent back?” Clare asked after a minute, breaking the tense silence.

“I don’t see why not.” The doctor chuckled. “You’re fine, aren’t you private? You’re not a coward, right?”

“Uh, no. No sir, I ain’t.” Blithe’s voice was shaky as he answered, and Eugene found himself seriously doubting that the other man was fine, but the doctor seemed unconcerned.

“There, you see? Just keep your head on in the field and you’ll be fine,” he said jovially, patting Blithe on the shoulder before moving on to his next patient and leaving Eugene and Clare staring at each other in varying levels of disbelief.

“Well, uh. I should- I should go,” Blithe finally managed to get out.

“You’re welcome to stay here for another hour or two, Private. Just until you get settled,” Clare offered, but Blithe shook his head.

“Thanks but no thanks, Nurse Davis. I wanna stay with my platoon.”

Clare didn’t look happy about it, but she nodded. “Alright.”

Eugene offered Blithe a small and (what he hoped was) reassuring smile. “Anythin’ happens you find me or get someone to find me, alright?”

Blithe didn’t smile back, but he seemed a tad less jumpy. “Yeah. Okay.”

~

Clare didn’t exactly feel good about letting the obviously still struggling Blithe walk out the door and back into battle, but she took comfort in the fact that, at least for the moment, the fighting seemed to have died down.

Eugene, who was standing beside her, seemed to read her mind. “I’ll, uh, I’ll keep an eye on him. If you’re worried.”

“Really?” Clare was sure that her surprise was evident in both her face and her voice. She looked down at her feet self-consciously. “I mean- thank you.” What was she thanking him for? He had only offered to do his job.

“Sure.” Clare took a small amount of comfort in the fact that Eugene appeared to share her feeling of awkward uncertainty. He cleared his throat. “Well, uh, I should get goin’. I heard one of the officers say Easy company’s gonna be movin’ out soon.”

“Oh.” The word was out of Clare’s mouth before she even realized that it had entered her mind, and she could have kicked herself for sounding so disappointed. What was the  _ matter  _ with her? “Well, um. I’ll probably see you again before too long. Nurses and doctors usually follow the action.” She chuckled nervously.

“Yeah.” Clare thought she saw a hint of a genuine smile tugging at the corners of Eugene’s mouth when he spoke, but it was gone in an instant leaving her to wonder if she had imagined it.

“Well then.” Clare stared at Eugene, he stared at her, and then he abruptly put on his helmet, saluted her, and disappeared back outside.

_ If there is a God up there in the sky please strike me down if I ever act that foolish again,  _ Clare thought. The sound of Jack’s laughter rang through her mind.

~

“Hey, Doc.”

Eugene nodded politely at Lux as he sidled up next to him. “Hey.”

“So, uh, you know I was near the Aid Station earlier?”

“Mm.” Eugene hummed in acknowledgment, unsure of where Luz was trying to take this conversation.

“And, well, I saw you there. With a couple ‘a the guys. And, uh,” Luz paused and grinned suggestively. “With a nurse.”

“Woah,  _ with  _ a nurse?” Perconte asked, whipping around to face them. “As in, together?”

“Things hadn’t gotten… you know. That far along,” Luz explained, his eyes glittering as he struggled to hold in his laughter. “But Doc here sure was makin’ eyes at her.”

Eugene turned bright red as Perconte and Hoobler began peppering him with questions and suggestive whistles sounded from some others who had overheard Luz, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

“Aw c’mon, Doc,” Perconte said when he saw that they were getting nowhere. “Dontcha got  _ somethin’  _ you wanna tell us?”

Eugene shook his head, his face a careful mask of neutrality. “Nope.” He fell back a little as the men around him grumbled their discontent. “I’m gonna check on 2nd platoon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hoobler waved him off and their conversation faded as a few fat raindrops fell from the sky and Eugene did his best to put Second Lieutenant Clare Davis of the United States Army Nurse Corps out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to include a bit more with some of the other men of Easy Company, just to break up the monotony of the Aid Station and such a little.
> 
> As I said earlier, I hope this has been enjoyable so far. I don't know exactly when I'll post the next chapter, but it will be sometime within the next week or so, so look out for that if you're interested!


	6. Chapter 6- Château Colombières

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos on this story so far! I appreciate it more than I can say.

_ D-Day +7 _

It had been a relatively slow morning, especially in comparison to all that had happened the day before. Clare, Kathleen, and a few other nurses were taking a well-deserved break inside the tent that served as their barracks. While some ladies chatted amongst themselves, reminiscing about their homes or exchanging funny anecdotes, Kathleen and Clare stayed out of the way, the former skimming a copy of  _ Look  _ magazine while the latter retouched her makeup.

“You’re going to be more foundation than woman if you keep at it like that,” Kathleen remarked mildly without looking up.

“More of it comes off when I sweat,” Clare replied as she ran her makeup brush across her forehead.

“If you can survive summer in Washington, I’m sure you can survive summer in Europe.”

“Says the girl from Minnesota.”

Kathleen set down her magazine with an exasperated sigh. “Clare, you look fine. I promise.”

Clare frowned at her friend, but heeded the words and began to put her supplies away. As she finished, whispers tinged with excitement erupted across the room, causing both her and Kathleen to look over at the other ladies.

“Davis, Bukowski, c’mon!” one of them called when she caught them staring. “We’ve got a flask of whiskey over here- Vat 69, none of that cheap shit.”

Kathleen’s face lit up, her expression rivaling that of an excited child’s on Christmas morning. She quickly abandoned  _ Look  _ and accepted the flask from Eileen Richardson, the woman who appeared to be responsible for the alcohol’s sudden appearance, taking a big swig and sighing contentedly.

Clare shook her head. “We’re not supposed to drink,” she admonished, even though her heart wasn’t in it. Truth be told, she could use a little fortification to see her through her next shift (although she certainly wasn’t about to admit that).

“Oh, come  _ on.  _ Live a little!” Kathleen encouraged, the whiskey already loosening her tongue. Eileen held up the flask and shook it enticingly.

“Oh... fuck it.” Clare strode across the room, accepted the flask, and gulped down the mouthful that was left before she had time to think about it. The liquid burned on the way down, and she coughed, which elicited a chorus of knowing chuckles from everyone else.

“See? You’re not such a saint after all,” one of the other nurses (whose name Clare struggled to recall- Vogel, perhaps?) remarked. “You should drink with us more often.”

“Well, I hope you enjoyed that, ladies, because it’s all I got. I only managed to get it over here in the first place by hiding it in my unmentionables,” Eileen said, causing a few of the younger girls to giggle. “You’ll have to go back to England if you want more.”

“That’s the first thing I’m doing when we get back.” Kathleen stretched her legs out across the bed as she spoke. “Getting blind drunk.”

“Don’t let Schultz hear you,” Clare replied, nudging Kathleen with her foot so that she could sit down.

“Quit worrying.” Kathleen lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “My guess? She’s secretly a party girl.”

Eileen snorted. “Fat chance. It’ll be a cold day in hell before Schultz goes to a party. She’s an old maid at 28.” She abruptly sat up and turned to Kathleen. “Enough tittle-tattle. I shared my Vat 69, now you share your Lucky Strikes.”

That caused a veritable uproar among all those present except for Clare. Kathleen held up her hands.

“Okay, okay! Christ, I can’t believe that none of you thought to bring your own packs. It’s almost like you all actually follow the rules.”

“Spare us the wise-cracking, Bukowski,” Eileen griped good-naturedly. “We just wanna smoke.”

“Speak for yourself.” Clare stretched out on her back when Kathleen rose to go and get the pack of cigarettes. “It’s a hard pass for me.”

“Fine. More for us, Ms. High-and-Mighty. You know-”

Their banter was interrupted by Lieutenant Schultz pulling the tent flap back and striding in, causing Kathleen to stuff the Lucky Strikes into her pocket and Clare to shove the flask behind her back.

“Look sharp, everyone. We’ve got wounded.”

~

Within an hour, Clare’s ODs were covered with blood.

“Hold him down!” Clare yelled at the medics who were supposed to be assisting her as she attempted to take a bullet out of the collarbone of a soldier who was bleeding heavily as he writhed in pain. “Dammit.” She narrowly avoided accidentally severing the subclavian artery altogether as her blood-slicked hands struggled to hold onto her scalpel.

Suddenly, the man stopped struggling. Clare felt momentarily triumphant as she was finally able to get a good look at the wound, and located the bullet. As she began to extricate it, however, she felt someone tap her shoulder. “Nurse.”

Clare looked up to see one of the nameless medics gazing at her with sad eyes, while the other stared at the wounded soldier with an alarmingly blank expression. Setting down her instruments, Clare reached for the poor man’s wrist.

No pulse.

Clare’s breath caught in her throat. As if in a trance, she heard herself call for a doctor in her usual “medical” voice- calm and authoritative. Then she blinked, and a man with a uniform that designated himself as an army surgeon had appeared.

Clare and the two medics were pushed away from the body. The men quickly disappeared outside and Clare found herself alone at the foot of a staircase, not quite sure how she had gotten there. It was as though she was standing outside her own body, staring at herself.

Her hands were covered in blood, her eyes were dull and tired, and her face was streaked with dirt and God knows what else.

For once, even Jack’s voice, which had played over and over in her head like a broken record for six years, was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look Magazine was a bi-weekly magazine printed in Des Moines, Iowa. It ran from 1937 to 1971 and was popular during WWII.
> 
> I don't think I have to explain the historical background of Vat 69.
> 
> My apologies for ending on a bit of a cliffhanger! I wish I could say that I will soon resolve it, but unfortunately, my computer had to be taken in for repairs and I'm not quite sure when I'll be getting it back. I do have the net few chapters planned out, though, so hopefully, it won't be too long until the next update! In the meantime, feel free to submit your guesses for what you think might happen next.


	7. Chapter 7- Château Colombières

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> It's been a bit since I last updated this story, but rest assured that I have not given up on it! I have never abandoned a story before, and I don't intend to start now.
> 
> This chapter gave me quite a lot of trouble, but after months of working on it, I've decided that it's probably as good as it ever will be and that I should just post it and move on. So, here it is! I hope everyone enjoys this, and thank you again to everyone who has left feedback on this story so far.

_ D-Day +25 _

Eugene tensed as the Aid Station came into view, his body automatically preparing to jump out of the jeep and start calling for help. From the hood of the vehicle, where he was strapped, Blithe let out a wheezing groan, and Eugene couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He had hoped the morphine would knock the other man out completely, but he supposed it must be hard to sleep with a hole in your neck.

Two other medics came running out of the building when the jeep halted, each grabbing one end of the stretcher while Eugene reached across to unstrap it. He followed them as they weaved through the crowd of medics, nurses, and doctors who were descending on the other jeeps and ambulances bearing wounded men, and pointed out an empty bed once they were inside. 

“Over there.”

Blithe was set down as gently as possible and then Eugene was on his own again, calling for help. “I need a doctor over here!”

Instead of a doctor, however, a nurse came to his aid. She gently pulled back the haphazardly tied bandage on Blithe’s neck as she assessed the wound. “Was he shot?”

“Yeah. Sniper. Didn’t hit the artery, though, else he’d have bled out by now.” Eugene’s answers were clipped and matter-of-fact.

“Mmm.” The nurse reached for a sterile bandage as she untied the old one, passing it off to Eugene. A coppery scent wafted up to him, and he swallowed hard.

“He needs to see a surgeon,” was the final verdict, and Eugene was sent off to find one. When he returned, concern had broken through the professional mask worn by the nurse, marring her face. A pit of worry formed in Eugene’s stomach, and as Blithe was hurriedly carted off he pulled her aside.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes?” She turned to face him, and Eugene was briefly struck with the realization that she looked quite familiar. “How can I help you?”

Eugene had been on the verge of asking if she knew whether Blithe was going to make it or not, but the words stuck in his throat and he found himself unable to vocalize his concerns. Instead, almost before he knew what he was doing, he asked “Do, uh… do you know a nurse by the name of Davis? Lieutenant Davis.”   
  


Much to his surprise, the nurse smiled. “I do.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”   
  


“Supply cupboard.” She pointed to Eugene’s left. “The end of the ward, on your right.”

“Thanks.”

The nurse nodded. “When you see her, tell her that she owes Kathleen Bukowski a drink.”

~

Clare’s hands moved robotically as she took inventory of what the Aid Station still had left, noting a shortage of morphine on her clipboard in neat print. Her mind still felt foggy, as it had been for the past few weeks, and she knew that Lieutenant Schultz was getting concerned about her to the point of wanting to send her home. In all honesty, Clare couldn’t bring herself to care much anymore.

“Lieutenant Davis?”

The familiar voice stopped Clare in her tracks, and she slowly turned to face the man who had spoken. Relief flooded through her as she laid eyes on Eugene, who she hadn’t seen in weeks and had been beginning to fear the worst about.

“Hello.”

Clare sounded exhausted even to herself, and Eugene’s eyebrows raised. “Are you okay?”

“I-” Clare’s voice cracked, ruining her attempts to sound calm and collected, and she was forced to clear her throat and try again. “I’m fine.”

He clearly didn’t believe her, but he nodded all the same. “Good. That’s… uh, good.”

Clare looked at Eugene expectantly for a few moments before turning back to the cabinet, trying to adopt an unaffected look. “Is that all?”

She saw him shake his head out of the corner of her eye, and anxiety began to poke through her brain fog. He hesitated just a second longer, then plunged ahead with delivering his message.

“Private Blithe, Albert Blithe, the man with hysterical blindness from a couple ‘a weeks ago? He got hit. Sniper. They don’t know if he’s gonna make it yet.”

Clare blinked. After such a roundabout, hesitant introduction, Eugene spoke about Blithe’s wound with such clarity that it startled her. She was unsure of how to respond.

“I brought him here and… I figured you’d wanna know. Seeing as he was your patient.”

“They’re all our patients,” was Clare’s stoic response. She sounded decades older than her 23 years.

Eugene was visibly taken aback. “Yeah.”

Shouting could be heard from the other end of the ward then, and Eugene seemed to remember where he was. “I should-”

“Go,” Clare finished.

A clipped nod signaled Eugene’s agreement. He turned, helmet tucked under his arm, and then he looked back at her. Clare got the sense that he was trying to memorize something, though whether it was this moment or her, she couldn’t say. She wasn’t sure if there was a difference.

“Keep your head up, Nurse Davis. Else…” he trailed off and shrugged. “Who’s gonna look after all the Albert Blithes?”

“The Eugene Roes?”

Eugene, surprisingly enough, didn’t seem to even register the compliment. He just shook his head adamantly. “All I do is patch ‘em up. You look after them.”

Emotion welled in Clare, and she averted her gaze with a small nod. Her hands gripped the clipboard she was holding tightly.

“Well, I’ll… see ya later,” Eugene offered. Clare thought she saw a smile tug at his lips as he headed out of the ward, and something that almost felt like laughter fluttered inside her when he called over his shoulder, “Oh! Nurse Bukowski said to tell you that you owe her a drink!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last chapter that takes place in France for a little while! We're getting a change of scenery. Next stop, England, where you will see much more of the rest of Easy Company (and get a little bit more of a taste of Clare's background).
> 
> As I'm sure I have said before, I greatly appreciate both comments and kudos. They really are the lifeblood that keeps me writing.


	8. Chapter 8- Aldbourne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for you all! I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

_ July 17th, 1944 _

_ Aldbourne, England _

“Remind me again why we used up one of our few nights off to travel 10 miles for a drink?” Clare asked as she, Kathleen, and Eileen stepped into the pub, which was already crowded with members of the Airborne. “They have pubs near us, too.”

“We’re not just here for a drink, Clare!” Kathleen reminded her, smoothing out the olive drab service jacket that she had been all too happy to return to after their time in ODs. “We’re here for  _ conversation. _ ”

“You mean flirting.” Clare sighed as she and the women took seats at a table near the bar. “You know there are men at Standen Manor, right?”

“Men who we have to work with,” Kathleen replied. “Men who are terrified of us.”

“Who says the men here won’t be terrified?” Eileen cut in, grinning devilishly.

“Terrified of what?”

The nurses jumped as a low voice sounded behind them, and they turned to see a few soldiers (presumably paratroopers) hovering by their table with interest. Two of them were roughly the same height and build, while the third was shorter. One man had light brown hair while the other two’s were darker. Kathleen smiled sweetly at them.

“Nothing, of course, gentlemen.”

“Damn right,” one of them declared, receiving chuckles and nods of approval from the others. He gestured to the seat next to Clare, the only empty spot at the table. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Go ahead,” Kathleen said before Clare had a chance to politely refute him. Eileen coughed to hide a giggle, and Clare glared at both of her companions.

“I’m Sergeant Talbert,” he declared as he sat down, fixing Clare with a grin. “And this is Liebgott and Luz.” He gestured at each of his companions as he spoke.

“Lieutenant Davis,” Clare said stiffly, hoping that the slight emphasis of her rank would communicate that she wasn’t interested. It didn’t appear to work, however, as Talbert just looked amused.

“So, where are you ladies from?” the shorter one- Luz- asked.

“I’m from Minnesota,” Kathleen supplied. “And Lieutenant Richardson’s from Connecticut.”

“No kiddin’! I’m from Rhode Island,” Luz said, looking at Eileen with renewed interest.

“Small world,” she replied, a flirtatious smile playing at her features.

“What about you, Lieutenant?” Talbert asked Clare, also emphasizing her rank as mischief danced in his eyes.

Clare stared at him blankly for a moment, just long enough to make him shift in his seat uncomfortably, before speaking. “DC.”

“Nice.”

There was an awkward pause around the table. Then, to Clare’s relief, Talbert looked away from her and addressed the group. “Can we buy you some drinks?”

Kathleen nodded eagerly. “That sounds-”

“Thank you, but the first round’s on me.” Interrupting Kathleen with a polite smile as she stood from the table, Clare seized her opportunity to get away from the incessant attempts at romancing. “I still owe Lieutenant Bukowski here a drink.”

It was Kathleen’s turn to glare.

~

“Well, I would call that a rousing success!”

“For you, maybe,” Kathleen said to Eileen as they stepped out of the pub into the surprisingly warm night air. She sounded peeved. “This one,” she inclined her head towards Clare, “Thwarted all my plans. And she didn’t have anything to drink all night!”

“Oh, calm down.” Clare’s tone was good-natured, but with a hint of exasperation. “You got your drink, didn’t you?”

“That’s not the point.” Kathleen kicked a pebble that was lying at her feet, sending it bouncing into the road. “You need to loosen up a little. Tonight was supposed to help with that!”

“What if I don’t want to ‘loosen up’?” Clare was rapidly moving from “slightly annoyed” to “frustrated and angry”. “Did you even think to ask me that?”

Kathleen looked down at her feet. “No.” She sounded a bit like a child who had been admonished for staying up past their bedtime.

“Exactly.”

Silence descended upon them as they continued on their walk back to where the bus stop was, Eileen regarding both of them as one might regard caged tigers. Clare felt bad for destroying the previously lighthearted mood, but she couldn’t help how she felt. She hadn’t even wanted to come along in the first place.

The low rumble of an approaching vehicle cut through the night, and the three nurses turned to look behind them, squinting as the headlights of a jeep shone directly at them.

Clare expected the car to bypass them, but to her surprise, it slowed to a stop directly next to her. A young man who none of them recognized was driving, and the passenger’s seat was occupied by-

“Corporal Roe!” Clare couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice, and she heard Kathleen suppress a laugh.

“Lieutenant.” Eugene nodded at her politely, though surprise was also evident in his facial expression.

“You ladies waiting for the bus?” the other paratrooper asked.

Kathleen nodded. “Yes.”

“The last one went a little while ago,” he explained. “But we’re happy to offer all of you a ride.”

Kathleen and Eileen both eyed Clare, seemingly wanting her approval and assurance that this was a good idea. She smiled at them, then turned back to the jeep and nodded.

“Thank you. You’re very kind.”

Eugene reached out his hand, helping each of them into the backseat. Clare went last and found (to her complete mortification) that her heartbeat quickened when she took Eugene’s hand. She could only hope she wasn’t blushing, or if she was, that the darkness hid it.

“Everyone settled?” the driver called back to them, to which they responded in the affirmative. As he started up the engine again and they pulled away, Clare internally wondered what she had done wrong to deserve being trapped in a jeep sitting behind Eugene Roe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 326th Airborne Medical Company was billeted at Standen Manor and Templeton House when they returned to England, so it seemed to me that the nurses would probably be staying near there as well. It's about 10 miles away from Aldbourne (half an hour by car according to Google Maps).
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this far and hasn't gotten bored and left yet! I appreciate each and every one of you.
> 
> Have a happy Thanksgiving if you choose to celebrate it! And if you don't, then have a wonderful rest of your day regardless.


	9. Chapter 9- Standen Manor

The ride back to their billets was a quiet one, the roar of the jeep loud enough that someone would have to shout to be heard, an off-putting proposal to two women who had just spent the evening drinking and one who was both thanking and cursing the universe internally. Clare spent most of the ride staring at the fields they passed, stubbornly ignoring the fact that there wasn’t anything to be seen in the dark.

“Here we are!” The man driving called out as they lurched to a stop. He killed the engine, then hopped out and offered a hand to Clare. “After you, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Clare managed as she concentrated on not slipping. The ground was wet with evening mist.

“Yes, thank you,” Eileen echoed as she dismounted. “We’d have been stuck walking if it wasn’t for you, Corporal Roe and Sergeant…” She cocked her head to one side, a question in her voice.

“Malarkey. Don Malarkey.” He nodded politely at them. “It was no trouble.”

“You ladies staying inside the Manor?” Eugene piped up with a nod to the building in question, silhouetted against the night sky.

“Just down the road, there,” Clare replied, pointing at a modest house about 100 feet away. It was difficult to see, particularly because Mrs. Morris, the old widow who owned it, had already drawn the blackout curtains. Clare imagined that she and the others would get pointed glares and maybe even a few harsh words for being out late.

“I’ll walk ya,” Eugene said, and Clare’s heart somersaulted. “Wouldn’t want you to trip and fall in the dark.”

“How chivalrous of you,” Kathleen remarked, gently pushing Clare forward when she made no immediate attempt to move. Clare thought about purposely tripping her in retaliation, but that could easily end badly, and inflicting an injury on someone probably went against what she stood for as a nurse, anyway.

Clare and Eugene walked side by side up to the house, Clare’s gaze trained on her feet and Eugene’s on the road. Clare’s mind nagged at her that she should say something, anything, if only to make this less painfully awkward.

“Have you been enjoying your time off?”

Eugene looked over at her. He seemed a little startled, like he had been lost in his thoughts, but he nodded all the same. “Yeah. We still train, do exercises, and stuff like that, but it’s been nice having a break.” They came to a halt outside Mrs. Morris’ door. “How about you girls, you liking the time off?”

“Well, there’s still wounded to treat. We have shifts at the base hospital every so often. Give the other nurses a break,” Clare explained. “But yes. It’s been nice to have some quiet time.”

“Or not-so-quiet time, if you’re Bukowski here,” Eileen butted in good-naturedly as she and the woman in question joined Clare and Eugene at the door.

“Very funny,” Kathleen bit back. Then she looked at Eugene. “Thank you, again. We hope to see you around sometime soon.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome. Like Malark said, no trouble.”

Clare smiled at him as she turned to go inside. “Goodnight.”

“Wait, uh, Lieutenant?”

She looked back at him. Kathleen and Eileen paused, but she waved them on. “Yes?”

“I was, uh, wonderin’ if you would, um, like to go for a walk with me sometime.”

Clare blinked. “A walk?”

“Yeah.” Eugene shrugged. “I’d take you out to dinner but there ain’t many restaurants around here and the pub’s kinda crowded.”

“Like a date?” Her mouth went dry. “I…”

“You don’t have to,” Eugene was quick to amend. “I’m sorry if this is unwelcome, or inappropriate, or anythin’. I just thought… just thought I’d ask.” He raised his hand in a half-hearted wave before moving to go back down the road.

“Wait!” Clare blurted out before she could stop herself.  _ What are you doing? _ “I, um- yes. I’d like to go for a walk with you.” She paused. “As friends.”

A moment passed, then the corners of Eugene’s lips turned up, and he nodded. “Okay. As friends.”

“I have some time on Friday,” Clare supplied. “Does 4 o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah. That works just fine.”

“Okay.” She took a step back. “Well, I should, um…” She gestured to the door.

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Eugene shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see you Friday.”

Clare watched him go, and when she was certain he was far enough away so as not to hear her, she slumped against the doorframe and let out a heavy sigh. “Christ.”   
  


_ “As friends”. Nice save. Bet he really believed it. _

“I haven’t missed you,” Clare murmured. Her mood wasn’t improved when she found Kathleen waiting for her in the front hall with a grin that rivaled the Cheshire Cat’s.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I know.”

~

Friday dawned surprisingly clear and relatively warm, a rather perfect summer’s day. Clare decided to take this as a good omen, though her heart was pounding as she pulled on her stockings, noted the hole in the heel, and applied her makeup. She had, of course, spoken to soldiers many times before, but this was going to be the first time she was  _ alone _ with one. And then there was, of course, the fact that fraternization with enlisted men was completely against the rules of the Corps, a fact she was acutely aware of even as she reassured herself that she and Eugene were just what she said they were- friends.

“You look great.”

Clare looked up and met Kathleen’s eyes in the bathroom mirror with a smile. “Thanks.”

“Here, let me,” Kathleen said, walking up behind Clare and helping her secure her thick, wavy hair into a neat ‘do with one last pin. When she was finished, she grinned. “There. Perfect.”

“It’s still not a date,” Clare reminded her, but there was more fondness than true annoyance in her voice.

“Oh, shut up. My little baby’s all grown up, let me be proud!” Kathleen replied, leaning on Clare’s shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.” Clare swatted at Kathleen’s arm, then grabbed her cap from where she had set it by the sink and made for the door.

“Ridiculous and right!” Kathleen called after her.

“Don’t make me tell you to shut up again!” was the only response she got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where, exactly, combat nurses would stay or what they would do when they weren't on the front lines, but given the overall shortage of nurses that the US military had to deal with throughout WWII (they almost instituted a draft for nurses at one point it got so bad) it seemed to me that Clare and Co. would probably be assigned to work at an army hospital for at least some of the time they were in England.
> 
> Things are picking up now! I hope everyone is enjoying this, I can't wait to share the next few chapters with you all.


	10. Chapter 10- Standen Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are- Chapter 10, officially one-third of the way through this story (unless something drastically changes on my outline).
> 
> I'm so excited to continue sharing more of this with everyone! Without further ado, please enjoy Clare and Eugene's first date.

Eugene and Clare had agreed to meet just down the way from where she was staying. So it was that come 4 o’clock, the man in question waited outside the gates to the grand country house where much of the rest of the 326th was staying, his eyes closed and face tilted up to catch the sun. Being from Louisiana he was certainly used to rain, but at least back home the rain was usually somewhat warm. Not the cold slop that seemed to bucket down endlessly in England.

“Enjoying the weather?”

Eugene’s eyes flew open and he straightened when he saw Clare walking towards him, an amused smile on her face. “Hello, Lieutenant.”

“Hello, Corporal.” Clare gestured to the empty road. “Shall we?”

He nodded and they started off, walking side by side. After a few minutes, Clare spoke up.

“Do you take walks a lot?”

“Yeah,” Eugene said, nodding. “I mean, I like spending time with the other fellas too, don’t get me wrong, but… sometimes it’s nice to get away for a while.”

“I know what you mean,” Clare agreed, smiling. “And it’s beautiful around here. When it’s not raining.”

Eugene chuckled at that and they rounded a corner, finding themselves on a more secluded path far from the potentially prying eyes of any random serviceman who might be driving by. He took a breath.

“I guess we should get to know each other a little more. I don’t know much about you, ‘cept that you’re from somewhere down South and you’re a nurse.”

“Well, there’s not much more than that,” Clare replied. “I’m from Kentucky originally, but I live in DC now. That’s where I went to school.” She looked over at him, a little slyly. “But I don’t need to be from down South to know that that’s where you hail from, too. Let me guess- Mississippi?”

“Close,” Eugene said. “Louisiana. I’m half Cajun.”

Clare raised her eyebrows. “Parlez-vous Français?”

A grin lit up Eugene’s features. “Oui. Et toi?”

Clearly a little regretful now that she saw she had raised his hopes, Clare shook her head. “Not really. I learned a little in high school, but I’ve forgotten most of it, and…” she hesitated briefly. “Well, let’s just say our teacher wasn’t the best.”

Eugene didn’t let disappointment claim him for too long- outside of his home, he had only met a few people who could speak more than a few words or basic sentences in French. “I wasn’t one for school myself,” he offered.

Clare made a soft noise of understanding, and they continued on their way. All was quiet except for the crunching of the gravel path under their feet, and Eugene absentmindedly reached into his pocket for a cigarette. Just as he was about to light it, he saw Clare looking at him.

“Sorry… do you mind?”

“No,” she said mildly, her eyes flitting back over to the fields bordered by stone walls and hedges all around them. Once Eugene had lit his cigarette and pocketed his lighter, she spoke again. “I guess since we know each other better now, we should use each other’s first names.” She shrugged. “It just seems a little silly to keep calling you ‘Corporal Roe’ all the time.”

Eugene didn’t quite know how to respond to that. He took a drag on his cigarette before answering.

“I… sure. Sure, if you want to.” He must have still looked unsure because Clare was quick to backtrack.

“Just between us, I mean. That is- people might talk if I called you Eugene in public.” She was a little flustered, and Eugene fought back a smile as she tugged on her hair in an effort to hide a blush.

“Well, in private you can call me Eugene or Gene. Whichever one you like.”

Clare allowed herself a flash of a smile. “Alright, Eugene. You can call me Clare.”

He reached across and offered her his hand to shake, which she took with an amused expression. “Nice to meet you, Clare,” he said, mumbling a little as he clenched his cigarette between his teeth. She laughed softly, and he was suddenly struck with an idea. “Here, c’mon.”

“What are you-” Clare’s protests were cut off as he took her hand and hoisted her up onto a low stone wall, wordlessly gesturing at the scenic picture in front of them. The sky was bright blue and open, not a cloud in sight. The field was full of high grass, dragonflies swooping low over it, and crickets chirped in the late afternoon sun. As Eugene watched, a completely natural, unguarded smile lit up Clare’s features. It made his heart jump to realize that he wanted nothing more than to see her smile like that every day.

After a few minutes Clare looked over and caught him staring, but much to Eugene’s delight her smile didn’t fade. “What?” she asked.

He looked away sheepishly. “Nothin’, just… you look real happy.” He paused. “It’s good to see you looking better after France.”

Clare turned to look out over the fields again. “France was difficult,” she agreed. “I, um… I’d never seen someone die before. I only worked at a civilian hospital for a little while before I joined up, and it was… _much_ different.”

Eugene listened intently.

“But I’ve been trying to put it behind me,” she continued, shaking her head as if to clear away the bad memories. “Anyway. Thank you.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“For what you said, back at the Aid Station,” she explained. “And for this.” Clare swept her hand towards the scenery as she spoke. “Reminds me of home.”

“Do you get back there a lot?” he inquired, then immediately regretted it. Clare’s smile vanished, her face taking on her usual solemn look.

“No,” was the only answer she gave him before consulting her watch. “It’s getting late. We’d better head back before it gets dark.”

Her tone was at least a little regretful, but Eugene still felt as though he’d stepped in it, so to speak. As she hopped down from the wall and began to go back down the road, he threw down what was left of his cigarette and followed close behind.

“Clare, I’m sorry if I said somethin’ to upset you. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s fine, Eugene,” Clare said, and though she smiled at him again it was fraught with tension. “I just didn’t realize how late it was, and I don’t want to be caught out here past dark.”

She was walking so fast that Eugene had to jog a little to catch up, and they didn’t say another word to each other until they were back at the manor.

“I enjoyed this. We’ll have to do it again sometime.” Clare’s voice seemed almost robotic, as though she were speaking rehearsed lines. Eugene felt shame pool in his stomach as he answered, even if he didn’t know exactly what he had done wrong.

“Yeah. Are you, uh, free anytime next week?”

“I don’t think so. But maybe the week after. I’ll let you know.” Clare checked her watch again. “I’m sorry, but I really should go.”

“Of course. I’ll…” Eugene trailed off as she hurried away with nothing more except a small wave in his general direction.

“...See you around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Information about the real Easy Company members is often conflicting, but I believe Eugene Roe dropped out of school during his elementary school years.
> 
> Please excuse any inaccuracies with regards to the small amount of French Clare and Eugene spoke- I speak Spanish XD
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you thought of this chapter, and share any predictions for what you think might be coming up! (Here's a hint- they're about to head into combat again, and things are going to get rough.)

**Author's Note:**

> The first members of the Army Nurse Corps to arrive in Europe arrived on the beach on D-Day +4 and were met with no resistance from enemy troops.
> 
> The 326th Airborne Medical Company was the designated medical unit of the 101st Airborne division. Nurses could not join, as women weren't allowed in the United States Army Medical Corps during WWII, but they had their own companies and divisions within the Army Nurse Corps (ANC) that were then assigned to assist other medical units in combat and hospitals. Clare's unit/division isn't specified in the story due to my inability to find a part of the ANC that would have consistently followed the 101st into combat (there are the slight artistic liberties I took), but from what I was able to find it stands to reason that there would have been nurses assigned to assist the 326th at least some of the time.
> 
> Women in the ANC weren't issued proper ODs until late 1943/early 1944, and many women in combat hospitals in places like North Africa and the Pacific either had to continue to wear the often impractical standard white or khaki dresses they had been given or wear men's uniforms.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Things will begin to pick up much more and you'll see some familiar faces in the next one. Feel free to leave comments and/or kudos and let me know what you think of this!


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